Chapter 10
The stone wall was cold beneath the slight pressure of Celas's hand. She stood very still, tracing the texture of it with her fingertips; at the back of her senses she could just barely hear Garret and Ballerant taking care of the rest of the guards. She had asked that they not take any lives while here at Hellsing—saving those Ballerant had already claimed for himself—and both had reluctantly agreed. It would make things more difficult, as the soldiers would regain consciousness quickly and alert the rest of the institute, but Celas had no intention of creating more sacrifices. She had too many lives on her conscience already.
Soon the pair was beside her, and she spoke to them without diverting her gaze from the space of solid stone. "Whatever happens, I want to thank you both. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't helped me."
"Hey, there's no need for that," Garret assured with a grin. "We're just trying to show off for you, after all."
Celas smiled at Ballerant's annoyed snort. "Well, thank you, whatever the case."
"Just stick to the plan," Ballerant advised. And then, not quite as coldly, he added, "You'll be fine, Celas. You're one of Alucard's—he hasn't forgotten that."
She closed her eyes briefly and nodded once. "I know. Good luck." With a deep breath she stepped forward, through the barrier.
When Integra emerged from her chambers a mere two hours after having visited Alucard's cell beneath the institute she was bitterly pleased to find Mithril 6 preparing for departure. Though by now it was nearly three in the morning the soldiers were being treated to a meal in Hellsing's own mess hall to last them the trip home; their supplies had been gathered and stored, their vehicles were ready and waiting. She surveyed their preparations with a critical eye and voiced her approval to Walter, who had at some point found his place at her side.
"Mr. Zimmerman insisted that they be on their way as soon as arrangements could be made for their transportation, as well as that of their casualties," Walter reported precisely. "And I thought you were gong to take three hours, Ma'am."
"Two will suffice." In truth she had slept for barely an hour, and spent the rest fitfully awake. But he needn't concern himself. There were other matters deserving attention; such as one vehicle in the front courtyard that seemed to have no plans of being shipped home. With a slight frown Integra—with Walter—left Hellsing's front entranceway to investigate.
As she had dreadfully anticipated, Jacob was nearby, giving instructions to the soldier behind the wheel of his crazed invention. He seemed to recall them when he spotted Integra and waited for her to approach. As always his face was an open book for her; hesitant, unsure, embarrassed. She would have struck him if she thought she could disturb the expression. "Jacob. I see you're on your way."
"Integra." He nodded shortly, though she detected no formality in the gesture. "As agreed, we're leaving now that our mission has been completed. I apologize for all the inconveniences we've caused."
Integra snorted irritably. "Cut it out, Jacob. There's no need to be snide."
At last he met her glare for glare—that was the Jacob Zimmerman she knew. "I thought I was doing things your way."
"Enough. I'm not here to bicker with you." She hat ed that it had come down to this between them, that he couldn't have left well enough alone and kept things as they were. But it was too late to regret her decisions now. "I want to know what this vehicle is still doing here."
Jacob's posture straightened. "I'm leaving it for you," he said, each word a test. "Shipping it back will use up a lot of extra time and money. And…I thought you might find some use for it."
"Hellsing doesn't need toys," Integra replied smoothly.
"It's a gift," he insisted, though she could tell he was biting back some response towards her arrogance. "I'm sure once Alucard's back on duty you won't need it, but it can't hurt to hold onto it for a while."
Integra was about to reply, but Walter beat her to it, much to her disapproval. "Hellsing would be grateful to accept your generous offering." She sent him a sharp glare but he returned it with one of patience, and she relented.
"Glad to hear it. I was about to—"
"Commander Hellsing!" The trio was interrupted by a soldier at the main entrance who was heading swiftly toward them. "Commander, we've lost contact with the exterior wall!"
Celas moved swiftly and effortlessly through Hellsing's innards, making her way down to her chambers in the institute's basement. She gave no heed to walls in her path, passing through them as shortcuts or simply to avoid detection. A child of Alucard in Bright Midnight—she was, at last, beginning to understand what that meant. She could feel the humming energy of Hellsing's seals around her and moved with them. She could taste the remnants of blood at the back of her throat, and drew strength from its warmth in her belly. She slid like a shadow amidst what she had once considered her kind unnoticed, unfaltering.
She had taken a human life. Ballerant had chosen their second victim, had taken his fill—and Garret his—before leaving the rest to their younger companion. She had fed eagerly until the body grew cold and stiff, and all that remained of his mortal life was the stain on her fangs. Even that was a memory now. And for the first time since her "death" at the hands of her master she felt alive, though there was no pulse behind her ribs and no breath through her throat.
"You still have a lot to learn about being a vampire."
"I know," Celas whispered, passing through the last wall into her quarters. She quickly unearthed and began to assemble her Halconnen. "I know, Master. But…." She slid a single shell into the weapon and hefted it over her shoulder. "…I want you to be the one to teach me."
She phased back through the wall, cannon and all, and began the climb to Hellsing's upper levels. She would only have one shot—she should only need one. As she left the basements she was tempted to double back, to see if Alucard were in his chambers, but she dared not disturb him; there was always the chance that he would disapprove of what she was about to do, and she couldn't back down now.
"Master." Celas continued swiftly to the institute's roof, leaping up through the ceiling where there were no stairs to avoid security. "I'm sorry," she murmured, in case he might have been watching her already. "I don't want to betray Hellsing—I do love it here." She smiled ironically to herself as she knelt at the roof's edge overlooking the front courtyard. "But I'm also a vampire, and…I'm not as strong as you. I have to do what I think is right." She lifted Halconnen to her shoulder. "And…I think this is the right thing."
Are you ready?
Yes, I'm here.
In the courtyard below Integra was turning away from the lighted vehicle, Walter, Jacob, and an American soldier on her heels. Further on she could see two figures darting towards them. She could only pray that both would keep the promise they'd made to her. When the group of humans had moved far enough away she took a breath and pulled the trigger.
Integra heard the screech of the projectile, but felt Walter's hand dragging her down before she realized the source. Even as she cursed the explosion sounded behind her. A moment later waves of heat washed over her back, followed by a showering of metal scrap and broken glass. As soon as the grip on her arm loosened she was on her feet, ready to assess the damage and hopefully, the identity of their attacker. She couldn't help the flicker of an ironic grin across her tight features when she realized only Jacob's "gift" was burning.
There was no time for question or instruction—the vampires were upon them, a pair she had never seen. Walter stepped in front of her but the precaution proved unnecessary, as both sped past her without pause. She turned just in time to see them shove the message-bearing soldier from a moment ago and dart inside.
"Filthy vampires—" Integra scowled and gave chase, Jacob just ahead of her and Walter just behind. Once inside there was only one vampire in sight: a blond, teenaged boy in boorish name-brand clothing. He stood facing the trio in the center of the room as if having expected them all along."
"I don't see the other," Jacob said lowly, making a brief scan of the foyer. "What are they doing here?"
"Sir Alucard?" Walter suggested, tugging at his gloves.
The vampire laughed. "Actually, killers of vampires," he taunted with a smirk, "we're here for you."
As soon as all had vanished within the institute Celas abandoned her weapon and turned to depart; there was no use trying to hide Halconnen when she was certain Walter had recognized its work already. Now there really was no going back. When she felt she had gone far enough she lowered herself through the roof—and right into Ballerant's path. Celas planted her feet instinctually at the impact, and both vampires were startled when the elder nearly bounced off her unbudging form. Ballerant squawked ungracefully as he fell back onto his rear.
Celas grinned sheepishly. "Um…sorry."
Ballerant blinked, yet stunned. When she offered her hand, however, he was quick to use it in climbing to his feet. "You're stronger than you look."
She started to reply, but was cut off by the report of a gun; the bullet struck her in the back, just between her shoulder blades. She lurched forward—Ballerant caught her in his arms. She couldn't move, and then abruptly she'd been pulled through the closest wall. "Ba—"
"Celas, hold still," a voice hissed in her ear. Ballerant was reaching for the wound in her back, but she forced strength into her limbs and tugged his hand away.
"I'm all right," she croaked, and was surprised by how true the words were. She could feel the bullet lodged in her chest, just behind her sternum, but whatever pain she might have felt was lessened to a dull, tingling burn. It might have hampered her breathing, but there was no need for that anyway. With Ballerant's arm to lean on she had regained her strength and balance in a matter of moments. "See? I'm okay."
"Varjak uses blessed ammunition," Ballerant said with some concern. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Varjak?" Celas's expression twisted in discontent, but she quickly brought herself back to more important matters. "I'm fine. If you can handle her—"
"Don't worry about me," he interrupted briskly. "Go back for Garret, if you can." Before she could thank him he darted outside the room once more and into a round of gunfire.
Celas followed and sprinted in the other direction, towards the front of the institute; she afforded only a brief smirk at the sound of Varjak's startled cry, the smack of a human body against stone. She then turned her attention forward to the main hall that was opening up before her. "Garret, please be okay…."
When Celas arrived the main hall was in disarray; soldiers had gathered with guns drawn but kept their distance, forming a broad circle around the two battling figures. She easily recognized Garret and Jacob at the center; though Jacob sported a trio of scratched incisions along his left cheek he seemed no worse for it, and Garret's only injuries were a few bullet wounds that already seemed to have closed over. The pair moved around each other and struck quickly, Jacob warding off the attacks of his enemy against his silver dagger, forcing him back. Garret, who fought only with tooth and nail, could not close with him without risking a wound from silver, or the dagger that was aimed without falter at his heart. As long as he attacked continuously, however, it kept the gunfire at bay.
Celas watched the exchange from a safe vantage atop the main stairway, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Though Garret might be able to hold out for some time as he was, sooner or later Integra would tire of her position on the sidelines. Already Celas could see her loading a new clip—a clip of silver from the looks of it—into her handgun. Walter was beginning to step forward as well, into the circle. Garret noticed, and managed to turn so that Jacob stood between him and the new threats, but his advantage would not last much longer.
"I have to do something." Celas ground her fingernails into her palms as she flashed over her few options. She ran out of time when she saw Integra nod to her faithful servant. Without any time left to debate she leapt from the rail, plummeting to the floor just in front of Walter as his arm swung. She braced herself, and wasn't disappointed as the thin wire snapped around her arms, torso, and throat. Her soft flesh was no barrier against the tightening metal, and she was certain it would have cut her in two if not for Walter's sudden realization of whom he'd snared.
"Celas!"
The first voice she heard was Garret's; though she couldn't see him she heard a sudden clash of flesh, and the vampire's choked cry. Despite the fiery pain of the wire she squirmed, twisting to see Garret pinned on his back with a blade pressed to his throat and chest. "Wait!" she croaked desperately. Her head was spinning but she fought back, refusing to let her legs give out. "Please, don't kill him!"
The wires began to loosen as Walter stared at her in disbelief—as did the surrounding soldiers. Integra's face was unimpassioned. "Don't let her go just yet," she instructed just as calmly as ever. A few steps brought her just before the weakly struggling vampire. "Agent Victoria. You're late reporting in."
"Please, Lady Integra," Celas begged despite Garret's protests. "I'm sorry I blew up your van, but please don't kill him. We didn't come back to hurt anyone—"
"He's a vampire," Integra interrupted coldly, though her eyebrow was lifted. "And he's fed tonight. That's reason enough to kill him."
Celas went cold at those words, met with Integra's unblinking stare. She…could tell. Somehow, she knew what her subordinate had done. And it might have meant that it was too late for her, too—at any moment she would signal for Walter to tighten his prison and slice her apart. "Master…." Her whispered plea caused Integra's expression to twist but she barely noticed. "Please, you can't kill him!"
The still tension of the hall was pierced by the shrill cry of some animal as a dark cloud flooded across the ceiling. Celas's hopes rose with the flutter of hundreds of leathery wings. But on the edge of that commotion were the shouts of a woman, and a moment later Varjak appeared—bloodied, gasping—at the rail Celas had occupied a moment ago. "Zimmerman!" she cried amidst the clamor of the darting black bats. "It's one of Mephistos's—he's killed Sanfeld!"
Jacob wheeled, and in the distraction Garret pushed out from under his captor. His freedom did not last long; Celas could only watch, stunned and without strength, as the scene unfolded before her. It started with a shadow rising from the floor, a streak of black and crimson she well recognized. Without pause or declaration one white gloved hand snatched Garret by the throat. The other limb was nothing more than a stretch of shadow reaching towards the ceiling; a flash of white tore it jaggedly apart, into blazing eyes and gaping jaws. Celas heard her own voice, then, a cry of wordless pleading as the mass of screeching, careening animals was engulfed and swiftly devoured.
The soldiers retreated a dozen paces each, wary of the creature returning to true form within their circle. Celas's eyes were wide, unblinking, locked on the familiar turned back, the black leather strapping that had replaced red velvet. "Ma…." Shuddering, she tried to make sense of what had happened, as the vampire's arm returned to proper proportion. "Master, you're…."
Alucard turned, spilling long tendrils of coarse black hair over his shoulders. His eyes were deep and smoldering, as bright as ever she'd seen them. There was no trace of scaring across his ivory flesh, no singed hair or shattered bone. He was grinning—subtly, but very much like himself, and Celas nearly cried in relief. It was the metal biting into her neck and the struggles of the captive Garret that brought her back to herself. "Master…?"
"Alucard." Despite the nervous fidgeting of her men Integra stood tall and proud. "It's about time." She smirked. "I was beginning to worry."
Alucard returned the humor in her face with his own. "Have you some order for me, Master?"
"Actually, yes." Her expression hardened. "Kill that vampire you're holding."
"Master—" Celas began to protest, but by then it was already too late. All it took was a flick of Alucard's wrist, a clench of his fingers, and white gloves sheared cleanly through Garret's throat. She didn't even have the chance to meet the vampire's bright gaze once more when the light fled from his eyes, and his head lolled sickeningly like that of a broken doll. It fell, and though Celas instinctually reached a strained, bloodied hand to catch it, the body disintegrated into ash long before it reached her. Her palm felt only a fluttering brush of the vampire's remains before they dissolved further, until no particle was left to mark his passing.
Celas couldn't move. With Alucard towering over her, his face calm and pitiless, she didn't know what to think. She had come back seeking approval and acceptance from her master, but by his eyes he held no sympathy even for her as she bled across the floor. Garret and Ballerant dead…and Integra, standing patiently beside her, preparing to order a third sacrifice. To call for her death at the hands of her own master.
"No…no!" When faced with the end Celas made her choice: whether or not Integra demanded her eradication, whether or not Alucard would fight for her as he had Lorenna, she feared the answers two greatly to allow them to be played out. Only…she couldn't risk losing Alucard to his prison. No matter what order he received next she cold not see him bend to it.
Celas twisted her arm, winding Walter's metal wire around her wrist and palm. With all her strength and a choked cry she pulled; her flesh was torn but she gave no heed as the elder man was dragged across the main hall to her. Under her guidance he struck Integra hard, sending her tumbling. The loaded handgun was wrenched from her grasp with the impact. It took a mere stretch of Celas's hand to retrieve the weapon, and though her fingers were numb she secured them around its handle, making it slick with her blood.
"It's all your fault!" Celas leveled the weapon at Integra as the woman returned to her feet and fell still. She was shaking, crying what didn't feel like tears, but she was determined and her aim didn't waver. "It's because of you—because you're holding Alucard prisoner!"
Another pair of wires snapped around her arms and wrists. "Agent Victoria," Walter said, his voice a patient tone as if beside her. " Please, calm down."
"No! I won't!" Her hand trembled as she met Integra's icy stare. All around the soldiers were raising their guns—hesitant, confused, but loyal to their commander. Celas couldn't bring herself to look at any of them. And when the wire around her wrist began to tug the sights of her weapon she clenched her teeth and dragged it back, even as the metal cut to the bone. "I'm…I'm sorry. But Garret—Alucard—!"
Integra didn't speak, but her eyes narrowed, as if daring her. Somewhere out of sight, Alucard's warm chuckle swelled to fill the hall. The sound of it caused Celas to shake. "Come now, police girl. What do you think you can do?" He took a single step toward her. "If have always—"
"No!" Celas's finger clenched around the trigger, firing several shots at their yet silent target. Integra didn't flinch as the bullets struck towards her, and were with a dull, wet impact imbedded in the cold flesh of Alucard's outstretched forearm. Celas scarcely had time to comprehend what had happened when the vampire's dark form swept over her. His white gloves cut through wire and steel, shredding the handgun and freeing her from captivity. She fell ungracefully to the floor, and even as she struggled to stand she found herself on her feet once more, bound against cool leather. "Ma…Mast…."
"It's all right, Celas," Alucard's low voice murmured. She felt it rumble from his chest, and as his arm tightened around her shoulders all the strength she'd been saving fled from her. His other arm he stretched to the side, so that it fell from his body in a stained heap, along with the silver that had begun to contaminate it. "It's over, now. All of it."
Celas trembled, and with a quiet sob she fell into Alucard's care, crying against his stronger form. "I'm sorry," she whispered hoarsely. "Master, I'm sorry—I should have—I didn't mean for any of this."
"I know. And it's all right." His newly formed, gloved hand rose to stroke the top of her hair, a show of affection that would have made her wilt if not for the strong arm against her shoulders. And though it still hurt—Garret and Ballerant, both lost—she was safely home, a reassurance that stole her fears away. Her master was welcoming her home.